


Xenodochy

by brokibrodinson



Series: Depravity [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/pseuds/brokibrodinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Connor?” Haytham addressed his son without bothering to look at him. “Please express our gratitude to my colleagues for all their hard work.”<br/>“Yes, father,” Connor said obediently, rising slowly from his chair.<br/>Then, to the shock of almost everyone present, he promptly crossed the room to where William Johnson was seated and boldly climbed into his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Xenodochy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scaresandcrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaresandcrows/gifts).



> For my wicked girlfriend Victoria, who encourages and enables my absolutely terrible ideas.
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3
> 
>  **xenodochy**  
>  noun  
> 1\. the reception of or extending of hospitality to strangers or foreigners.
> 
> ~~this fic is so fucked up~~

It had taken some time, but the board of directors of the American branch of Cross Enterprises had eventually grown used to the rather unorthodox relationship between their CEO and his son.

Haytham Kenway was a ruthless businessman, tough but fair in his dealings with other companies, and it was through his efforts that their branch was as influential as it was now.

“Honestly,” he said, when it was revealed to his inner circle that the man was engaged in incestuous relations with his underage son, “how could you possibly manage without me?”

And so he’d easily kept his position, and no whisper of scandal ever left the privacy of their confidential board meetings.

As Haytham’s colleagues adjusted to this new knowledge, they soon found themselves thinking the whole thing was rather titillating rather than off-putting. It was mesmerising, seeing the way little Connor Kenway would perch in his father’s lap during some of their later meetings, Haytham’s hand absently stroking his hair or rubbing his back as he spoke of stocks and shares.

The picture they made together was almost commonplace now, and the board no longer so much as batted an eyelid when Connor accompanied their CEO to any of the meetings.

Only Charles Lee was still uncomfortable with it, though his peers suspected that had less to do with the immorality of it than with the way his eyes would rest jealously on Haytham’s hands where they lingered on Connor’s pliant body. Everyone knew the man harboured a deep infatuation for their boss after all.

It was he who had discovered Haytham’s relationship with his son, though the shock and scandal of it had long since simmered down to a festering resentment.

Two years had passed since that fateful encounter. Connor was sixteen now, and seemed to grow more lascivious by the day.

 

It was the board’s annual end of year meeting, and all members were present, trying not to stare too luridly at Connor while his father spoke of the year’s accomplishments. The boy had his own chair next to the CEO and was sitting quietly, knees together. It was his eyes that were so captivating, gaze lingering intently on each of the men seated opposite him.

At last Haytham began to wrap up his speech.

“...and as a gesture of appreciation for your efforts,” he concluded, “I have decided to offer each of you a reward.”

The board members shuffled slightly, wondering what he meant.

“Connor?” Haytham addressed his son without bothering to look at him. “Please express our gratitude to my colleagues for all their hard work.”

“Yes, father,” Connor said obediently, rising slowly from his chair.

Then, to the shock of almost everyone present, he promptly crossed the room to where William Johnson was seated and boldly climbed into his lap.

“What would you like, Mr Johnson?” he asked sweetly, his angelic expression belying the wicked glint in his eyes.

“I-I don’t understand,” Johnson stammered nervously, caught completely off-guard.

“It’s quite all right, Mr Johnson,” Haytham’s voice came from across the room. “You may do as you like with him. Well, other than actual penetration,” he amended. “That privilege belongs to me alone of course.”

Someone snickered. Probably Hickey.

“I see,” Johnson said slowly, a hint of lust entering his gaze as the full implications began to dawn on him. He was unwilling to ask for anything too daring beneath the scrutiny of everyone else in the room, however.

“Might I trouble you for a kiss, then?” he asked gently.

Connor smiled and pulled himself closer to the Irishman, licking his own lips in invitation.

Johnson’s eyes followed the movement, but he still hesitated, the immorality of the position he found himself in nagging at the back of his mind.

It was therefore up to Connor to close the distance between them, huffing in impatience before he did so.

Johnson blinked in surprise as soft lips brushed his own, small hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. After a pause he began to kiss back, though continued to keep it chaste. He was wary of pushing the boundaries while in direct view of the boy’s father, and his boss.

An amused chuckle came from the CEO. “Kiss him properly, William,” Haytham ordered calmly.

At last, Johnson gave in to his desires, letting his tongue slip into Connor’s willing mouth as the kiss deepened.

Connor moaned against his lips and pressed closer, his fingers tightening where they clutched the fabric of his suit.

Eventually they were forced to part so they could breathe. An attractive flush had risen in Connor’s youthful cheeks, and his eyes were shining.

“Th-thank you,” Johnson murmured, as Connor slid back off his lap.

Connor smiled briefly at him in acknowledgement and looked around for his next target.

His gaze settled on Thomas Hickey who was openly leering at him.

Not at all intimidated, Connor approached him only to be hauled up easily by the man so he could deposit him in his lap himself, legs hanging to one side. An arm snaked around his waist for support.

“What can I do for you, Mr Hickey?” Connor asked, apparently unruffled by the unexpected manhandling.

Hickey raked him with his openly lecherous gaze, apparently giving his answer some thought.

“Show me,” he drawled, “show me how you touch yourself when you think about your daddy.”

Connor swallowed at the mention of his father, but his composure appeared otherwise unaffected as he lazily picked at the fastenings of his pants, pushing them down at a leisurely pace so he could wrap his fingers around his stirring cock.

“That’s it, boy,” Hickey growled, and from Connor’s position in the man’s lap he could already tell the man was affected by the display. His lips twitched slightly as he let his eyes flutter shut and began to stroke himself, quiet breathy moans beginning to escape him the longer he continued.

It thrilled Connor to know he had the attention of every individual in the room. All eyes were on him, and he revelled in it, making a show of it, his hand visible where it worked his cock, his head thrown back as he expressed his pleasure in soft groans.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Hickey murmured reverently, shifting slightly in his seat beneath Connor’s weight. Connor felt the distinct bulge of the man’s erection brush his rear and bit his cheek to stop from grinning as he deliberately ground back against it.

Hickey groaned audibly at the motion, and grabbed a handful of Connor’s hair so he could pull his head back and capture his mouth with his own.

Connor allowed himself to be kissed ravenously, though he was quick to push the man’s head away when he made to leave a mark upon his throat – only his father was allowed to leave marks on him.

“You close, boy?” Hickey asked heatedly, voice barely above a whisper as he breathed the words against his skin.

“ _Yes_ ,” Connor sighed, letting his voice pitch high and slightly desperate.

“Go on then,” Hickey didn’t order so much as suggest, but Connor was far along enough that he obeyed anyway. His body curved slightly and he bit down on a cry as his release soiled his fingers.

Hickey grasped his wrist, lifting his hand so he could examine the glistening essence coating his skin and tsked. “You’ve got yourself all dirty, boy.” A pause. “Lick it off.”

Connor almost rolled his eyes but caught himself just in time. He should have known watching him masturbate would be too pedestrian for the infamously-perverted Thomas Hickey.

He turned slightly so he could see the man’s face, meeting his eyes with an expression of faux innocence. “Like this, Mr Hickey?” he asked, raising his hand to his mouth and beginning to lick, lapping long stripes up each finger and stopping to suck suggestively at the point of each one.

Once he was done he presented his clean hand to Hickey. “Finished,” he said, like an overly eager schoolboy presenting his work to his teacher.

Hickey muttered a string of obscenities, eyes burning with lust. “Get going,” he ordered roughly, though the encouraging push he gave him was gentle.

Connor slipped off and stood on his feet, eyes roving around the room until they landed on John Pitcairn.

The man swallowed as he approached, but made no move to stop him as he clambered into his lap and gave him an expectant look.

“I... um...” the Scotsman stammered.

Connor smiled kindly at him, though his eyes gleamed with a predatory light that reminded Pitcairn of the boy’s father. “Yes?”

“Would you... would you perhaps touch me as you did to yourself just then?” Pitcairn asked in a rush.

Connor nodded, shifting slightly on the man’s lap so he could unbuckle his belt. Unfastening his trousers with nimble fingers, he slipped his hand into Pitcairn’s briefs and drew out his erection.

Giving his palm a few licks in a manner that mirrored the request made by Hickey, Connor took Pitcairn in his spit-slicked hand and began to pump him slowly. His fingers were neither too tight nor too loose, his technique smooth and well-practised.

“Do you... do this often?” Pitcairn dared to ask.

Connor merely smiled at him, catlike, while giving him an especially rough jerk with his hand in punishment. “You could say that,” he murmured, watching as Pitcairn groaned and bucked into his grip.

“I ah, I just meant to say you are very skilled,” Pitcairn said breathlessly.

“Oh,” Connor looked surprised, then pleased. “Thank you, Mr Pitcairn.”

Apparently somewhat won over, Connor was very generous in his attentions towards Pitcairn, effectively treating the man to perhaps the best handjob he’d ever been afforded as he stroked him to completion.

At last Pitcairn came with a cry that he tried to muffle with his fist, soiling Connor’s hand and some of his own clothing.

Leaning over Pitcairn, Connor plucked the man’s handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hand before passing it back so the Scotsman could attempt to clean himself up.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at his last ‘guest.’

It was Charles Lee.

Charles Lee, who had lusted after his father for years, who resented his very existence, and who was now staring him down across the room, eyes dark with malice.

Refusing to be cowed, Connor crossed the room with his head held high, coming to a stop by Lee’s chair.

“On your knees,” Charles growled before Connor could so much as speak.

Not particularly surprised by the man’s unfriendliness, Connor obeyed without a word.

The room seemed to be filled with a new tension that hadn’t been there earlier, the other employees waiting with bated breath to see what would happen. Would Charles go too far? Would Haytham be forced to halt the proceedings?

“How easily you obey that particular order,” Lee commented quietly, the first hint of a sneer beginning to curl his lip.

It would have been easy for Connor to lose his temper then and there, to fly into a rage or silently rise to his feet and walk out, effectively calling the whole thing off.

 He did neither, instead simply waited patiently for further instructions.

“No insolent retorts?” Lee asked, baiting him. “Very well, let’s put your mouth to better use then.” Standing up, he unbuckled his belt and freed his length from his trousers, using his hand to coax himself to full hardness.

“Seeing as this seems to be the only thing you’re good for,” Lee said coldly, “let’s hope you at least make a convincing job of it. Open your mouth.”

Irritated, Connor straightened his spine, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly. He could beat Lee at this game. If the older man thought he was the one in control here, he had a lot to learn.

Giving Lee a brief challenging smirk, Connor leaned forward and took the tip of his erection between his lips, lapping teasingly at the head.

He was good at this and he knew it. There was nothing Lee could throw at him that he wasn’t equipped to deal with. It wasn’t as though Haytham was _always_ gentle with him – not that Connor at all minded – meaning he had quickly learned to adjust to a rough, even fierce pace when the situation called for it.

So Lee thought he was just daddy’s little whore did he? He’d show him a whore all right. Show him that he could please his father better than Lee could ever dream.

It wasn’t so much that Connor felt he had to stake a claim or anything – his standing with Haytham was in no way under question. He simply tired of Lee’s constant contempt and dismissal of him, and the opportunity to rub the success of the father/son relationship in the man’s face was too good to pass up.

Above him, Lee’s breaths had quickened, though he seemed determined not to give Connor the satisfaction of his making any noise, not even when Connor dipped his tongue into the slit of his cock, or gave him a long leisurely lick from root to tip.

“Do you ever feel ashamed of yourself?” Lee spoke at last, low enough that no one else in the room could have heard of him. “Only sixteen and already such an eager little slut. Do you ever feel ashamed that you’re no more to your father than his toy, his plaything?”

Connor nearly snorted. Was that the worst he could come up with? Try harder, Mr Lee, he thought as he opened his mouth wider to take his cock down his throat.

Lee’s quiet gasp of surprise was immensely satisfying, and Connor was too busy revelling in it to care much when he felt the man’s fingers take hold of his hair and wrench him back a few inches.

“I’m in charge,” Lee growled irritably.

Connor smirked slightly. A man who was truly in charge did not need to state it was so in order to get his way.

“We will do things my way,” Lee continued, grip tightening on his hair as he attempted to inject his tone with a certain measure of command and only partially succeeding. “Try to keep up,” he added in a voice of mock concern, and without further ado pushed forward in one savage thrust.

Despite being ready for it, Connor had scant seconds to open his throat and adjust to the intrusion, and even then he had to fight hard against the instinctive gag reflex.

Lee didn’t let up either, drawing back only to push back in again, his pace merciless. It was not enjoyable for Connor in itself, but he could take it, and was amused by Lee’s blatant attempt to overwhelm him.

As Lee continued to fuck his mouth, Connor focused on breathing and let his thoughts wander.

Lee couldn’t last forever, and it was Connor who would emerge victorious from this particular battle.

“I will ruin you,” Lee hissed in between heavy pants. “Do you hear that, _brat_? I will wreck you and break you and tear you apart.”

Connor probably would have had to respond to that particular brand of ridiculousness, but was unable to with his mouth full so swallowed around him instead.

Apparently satisfied with his violation of Connor’s mouth, the unexpected sensation of his throat constricting was enough to drive Lee to orgasm. Spilling his seed down the boy’s throat, Lee maintained his hold on his hair and forced him to swallow every drop.

Connor simply waited until he was finished and then eased back out of his grip as soon as he was able.

Lee took longer to recover. Still short of breath, the man fumbled to tuck himself away again and buckle his belt, face shiny with perspiration.

It seemed it was not Connor who had been left wrecked after all.

Connor gave him a smug look before rising to his feet and turning to let his gaze settle on his father.

Haytham beckoned, and Connor tried not to look too eager, taking his time as he crossed the room.

Taking his son by the wrist, Haytham encouraged Connor to step closer, in between his legs, so he could raise his other hand and stroke his face.

“You were beautiful,” he murmured, and gently tugged him down into a kiss.

Though Connor had enjoyed the attention he’d received from Haytham’s employees, he was nonetheless relieved to feel his father’s mouth against his again, and he moaned softly against his lips as he was soothed by the comforting familiarity.

“Time to take you home I think,” Haytham said when they had parted, ignoring the rapt attention of his colleagues. Standing, he wrapped a possessive arm around Connor’s shoulders before facing the other men once more.

“Enjoy your Christmas break, everyone,” he said graciously. “And I’ll see you all again after the holidays. Drive safely.”

Dismissed, the board members filed from the room, Lee exiting last but not before giving Haytham and Connor one last considering look.

Connor was pleased to see his eyes still looked slightly glazed.

Then he too had gone, and the CEO and his son were free to depart themselves.

Connor was quiet in the car on the way home.

“Are you all right?” Haytham asked, concerned. “Do you... regret any of it?”

“No,” Connor said honestly. “It was... interesting.” He grinned briefly at Haytham. “They all wanted exactly what you predicted, father.”

Haytham chuckled. “Of course they did. Poor Charles didn’t know what he was getting into.” He hesitated, then asked carefully, “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing unexpected,” Connor said dismissively. “He told me I was no more to you than a toy, et cetera.”

“Ah,” Haytham replied. He glanced at the boy in the passenger seat, hands shifting slightly on the steering wheel of the car. “Connor,” he began suddenly. “You – you know I love you, don’t you?”

Amused, Connor began to laugh. “Don’t worry, Dad,” he said warmly. “I stopped paying attention to Lee years ago.”

Seeing that Haytham still looked unconvinced, Connor sobered. “I love you too,” he said, and leaned over to kiss his father’s cheek.

When they got home, Connor immediately took a shower, wanting to rid himself of the touch of everyone but his father. As he scrubbed himself clean he wondered if he should feel disgust at himself for such wanton behaviour, but soon dismissed the thought. It hadn’t meant anything to anyone assembled, and he had rather enjoyed showing off.

The reason for the shower was more that he wanted to present a clean and fresh slate to his father, he concluded. He knew Haytham would probably want to reassert himself as the only true figure of any significance in his life, and he yearned for him to do so.

Once he was clean and dry, he wandered naked into their bedroom to find Haytham waiting for him, fully-clothed and seated on the edge of the bed.

“Come here,” Haytham requested, stretching out his hand.

Connor approached without hesitation and let Haytham pull him to himself. His father ran a gentle hand down his bare side, settling on his waist, and looked up at him fondly.

“You smell nice,” he commented offhandedly.

“Thanks,” Connor replied dryly, inwardly itching for Haytham to pin him down and ravish him. He could be patient most nights but not tonight.

Haytham smirked at him, and the warm light in his eyes shifted, turning dark and dangerous. “You performed very well today,” he said slowly, deliberately, the hand on Connor’s waist slipping lower until he was stroking the soft skin of the boy’s inner thigh.

“Did you enjoy watching?” Connor asked curiously, trying not to shiver at the touches against his bare flesh.

Haytham chuckled. “Perhaps. But not as much as I enjoy having you to myself again.” He pulled Connor down for a kiss, languorous and hungry.

Connor pressed his body closer, folding himself up against Haytham’s frame and enjoying the feeling of his clothing as it brushed against his skin as their tongues lazily tangled.

“Darling boy,” Haytham sighed as they broke apart again. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

Connor’s breath quickened at once, pupils dilating. “Please,” he breathed simply, as though his body wasn’t _starving_ for it.

Haytham patted the mattress. “On the bed,” he ordered softly.

His son hastened to obey.

When Haytham took him it was with a slow burning possessiveness, his hands lingering on his skin as his mouth marked him all over, touching and tasting and biting.

He fucked into him slowly, gentle but thorough as he took him apart, stripping him bare to his core before putting him back together again.

Connor felt properly loved and owned and safe by the time his father was finished with him.

Pliant and sated, he could do little more than crawl beneath the covers and sink into the soft pillows before he was halfway to falling asleep.

Haytham kissed his cheek, lips curving into a smile as he pulled away. “Good night, Connor,” he said.

“’Night.” Connor muttered, burrowing against Haytham’s chest and breathing in his scent.

The evening’s activities had been entertaining, true, but Haytham’s side was where he belonged.

There was nowhere he’d rather be.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so Connor isn't in character at all any more really...  
> I have very little excuse, except that being raised by your father who is also your lover is bound to change you over the years. Whether that means you'd be a total sex fiend is another story but shhh just enjoy the messed up porn okay


End file.
